Not All Dead
by Tikatu
Summary: His name was on Harrison Wells's list of the dead. Now strange things are happening in Opal City and a particular dead man's wife wants answers.
1. The appointment

**Notes and disclaimer:** This is a fix-it fic for season 2x22, and takes place between January-May, 2016. I've taken a cue from relatively recent DC continuity when planning this out. Anything else would be spoilers. As of this posting, it has not been betaread.

I don't own _The Flash_ or any of its characters; DC Comics and the CW, do. Enjoy.

* * *

I stared at the damaged pylons rising high above me, wondering if whoever now owned S.T.A.R. Labs would ever get them fixed. From where I parked in the all but empty lot, they seemed huge, intimidating even in their brokenness. I let the rental car's engine idle, powering the heater as I sat, still indecisive about the appointment I'd made. My cell phone lay on the passenger's seat. It vibrated as if to remind me it was there. I huffed, a soft, bitter sound and then picked it up, dropping it into my handbag beside its companion tablet.

"Better get this over with." I turned off the engine and stepped out into the chilled air.

I parked several rows away from the building, giving myself space to turn back in case I got cold feet. The particle accelerator turned my life upside down in ways I never imagined and now all I wanted was some sort of closure. Hard to get when my heart was torn out and shattered.

The next time I looked up, I stood shivering just a few steps away from the entrance. I stopped, staring at my reflection in the glass for what felt like hours. My makeup, applied so carefully at the hotel, didn't quite conceal the dark circles under my eyes and try as I might, I couldn't muster up even a tiny smile.

"Well, it's now or never." I pushed forward, pressing a button beside the double doors.

It took a few minutes for any response. I fidgeted, glancing at my watch, then back to the car, trying to figure out how long to wait considering the cold and my desire to be polite. Before I could retreat, the screen above the button flashed with the S.T.A.R. Labs logo, followed by the perky face of a young woman.

"Hello, welcome to S.T.A.R. Labs. How can I help you?"

"Um. I'm Sue. I have an appointment with Dr. Snow."

The young woman smiled. "Ah, yes. Please come in. I'll be right there."

A buzzer sounded. I opened the door and stepped inside. It was warm indoors; someone was paying for lights and heating. The place smelled of, well, nothing much at all. No scent of sweaty humans, or electric motors, or chemicals—not even something flowery to cover such odors. The foyer, with its unmanned reception desk, reeked of sterile disuse. I removed my coat and settled into one of the chairs, sitting on the cushion's edge. The armrests held a sheen of dust; mute testimony to the near abandonment of the place. Where esteemed physicists and scientific whizzes used to flock, there was no one. Just as I had outside, I wondered just who owned S.T.A.R. Labs now and why the place was still open. Mercury Labs was the current focus of the scientific world.

The sharp click of heels on linoleum heralded the arrival of the young woman I'd seen before. I rose as she entered the foyer and she smiled at me, holding out her hand.

"Mrs. Dibny? I'm Dr. Snow."

I shook her hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Good to meet you, too." She beckoned to me. "Please, this way." Over her shoulder, she said, "You've come a long way from Opal City."

"Yes." The flight seemed to have taken forever. "I have other business here or else I wouldn't have come."

"Ah, yes. Getting multiple errands done on one visit. Very smart of you." She stopped at a doorway not far along and used her ID to open it. "Please, in here."

As I stepped inside, I was reminded again of the building's emptiness. There were no signs this had been the office of anyone at all, much less that of the young woman who took the chair behind the desk. No photos, no books, no personal effects whatsoever. The desk, like the chair in the foyer, had a light sheen of dust on its surface. I wasn't sure she noticed.

"Please, have a seat." I did so. She cocked her head to one side. "So, how can I help you?"

I clasped the pendant around my neck once, drawing in a deep breath. "Well, I guess I should start at the beginning."

"Always a good choice." Dr. Snow's tone and smile made me think this was a bit of humor shared between us. I decided to ignore it.

"About a year ago, my husband, Ralph, was killed when the particle accelerator came online."

She paled, a fact I noticed with a certain amount of grim satisfaction. Her lips moved soundlessly, brows furrowed as she parsed out a word or two. Finally, she sighed, shoulders drooping. "Ralph Dibny. Of course. Forgive me for not connecting your name with his. I am so, so sorry for your loss."

"Thank you." The response had become almost perfunctory now, even though I said it far less frequently than I did at the beginning. I cleared my throat. "You asked how you could help. I don't know that you can but-"

I pulled my tablet from my purse. "Approximately six months after Ralph's death, strangers—especially men—would accost me on the street. They knew my name, even though I'd never met them before. They said things I didn't understand." Keying up the first of several videos, I turned the screen towards her. "I didn't have the presence of mind to film these encounters at first, but did after three or four had happened."

Dr. Snow picked up the tablet so she could see the screen more clearly. I knew the words by heart.

"Hey, Sue. How about a hot dog? I know you love them with chili and cheese. Wish I could share one with you but I haven't found a way to come back yet. Here, have one!" A brief pause, then, "Miss! Miss! Do you want a hot dog? I got one right here! Hot dogs! Who wants a hot dog?"

Dr. Snow handed the tablet back to me. "That was odd. What did he mean by 'come back'?"

I shook my head. "I had no idea at the time." Queueing up the next one, I passed it back. "Not long after, it was people I knew who began talking to me like this."

The voice of Jada, my mail carrier, poured out of the tiny speaker. "Hey, Sue. Still getting that women's magazine, huh? I never understood why you wanted it; you always looked great to me. And here's a package—looks like it's from your sister. What did she have to say at the funeral? Probably was happy—" I could see Jada shaking her head and giving me a weak smile. "Sorry about that, Mrs. Dibny. This sun is really doing a number on me."

"Would you like some cold water?" I asked at the time.

"If it's not too much trouble."

Dr. Snow glanced up at me. "So the incidents moved closer to home?"

"Yes." I paused and drew in a deep breath. "Then this started." Sliding through the videos, I found the one I wanted and handed the tablet back. I knew what the pictures were; I'd watched this over and over. I was standing in front of the mirror in my nightgown, talking to myself, phone in hand.

"Hey, Sue. Wow, is this weird or what? Looking at you through your own eyes. From what I've observed, you won't remember this in the morning, which is why I'm recording it on your phone. Great idea you had, filming those others. I wish I could get through to you and explain what's going on but I can't put it into words myself. I never know how much time I have with each person before they boot me. In fact, this is the longest…" The monologue stopped and the picture tumbled briefly, ending with a brief clatter as the phone hit the floor.

I reached over to retrieve the tablet from Dr. Snow. She tucked a chestnut strand behind one ear. Her pretty face screwed up in a look I'd become familiar with; she wanted to ask me an impertinent and unpleasant question.

"Have you—have you seen someone about this? Your physician, perhaps? A psychiatrist? A counselor?"

I pursed my lips and barely refrained from scowling. "Yes, I have seen my physician. He referred me to a psychiatrist, who heard me out, wrote me a couple of prescriptions, and told me he'd see me in six months." She opened her mouth to speak but I held up a hand. "Before you ask, no, the phenomena did not stop. As you see by my evidence here, it's not all in my head."

Scrolling through the rest of the recordings, I selected the last one. "This is what brings me to you today."

In the video, I'm standing before my mirror again, this time fully dressed—if you can call baggy sweatpants and a dirty t-shirt as dressed in the first place. I hated the way I looked, strung out, my hair shaggy and uncombed, but at the time, I didn't care. In the video, I cleared my throat. "Sue…" My voice was raspy and I cleared my throat again. "Sue, I hate to see what these drugs are doing to you. You've lost all your verve, all your joie de vivre. I know my death was hard on you; being separated from you has been hard on me, too. I haven't found a way to get back yet and believe me, I've tried." Whoever had possessed me shook my head. "Listen. I've been all over and one place keeps drawing me back: S.T.A.R. Labs in Central City. You'd think that'd be the last place I'd want to go, right? But if the particle accelerator killed me, maybe it could bring me back? I dunno." A pause. "Anyhoo, there are crazy things happening there now and if nothing else, they could maybe explain to you what's going on with me. So go, hon. Just go. Ask for Dr. Caitlin Snow."

As I turned off the recording, Dr. Snow's lips were pursed and her eyes regarded the desk for a long time. I couldn't decide if she was going to dismiss me outright, jolly me along, or actually listen. When she looked up at me again, I could tell she was totally serious.

"Do you remember making that recording?"

I shook my head. "I don't remember making any of the ones of myself."

"Who do you think it is?"

Shrugging, I sighed. "I could have some kind of multiple personality disorder. That's what my psychiatrist thought."

"But that doesn't answer my question and it doesn't account for the recordings you made of others. As you said, this is evidence against such a disorder."

"True."

"So? You came here. To me. I'm not a psychiatrist. I'm not a physician; I'm a geneticist—among other things. So, why did you come? What do you think is going on?"

I swallowed, speaking carefully. "I've heard that Central City is home to a number of super-powered beings called metahumans and that all of them were spawned by the explosion. What if—what if my husband was among them? What if he is one of those metahumans, too, and somehow, this is his-power?" Slumping back, I gestured toward my tablet. "I can't think of another explanation."

Dr. Snow tapped her bottom lip with a manicured fingernail. She leaned forward, folding her hands and putting them on the desk. "Forgive me for asking, but where was your husband when he died?"

I knew the answer to this one; that nice Detective West had shown me where they'd found Ralph's body. "He was walking from the rental car kiosk to the main terminal at Central City jetport." A small smile crossed my face. "He preferred to walk if it wouldn't make him late. 'Stretch his legs' is how he put it." I sighed. "Unfortunately, he was running late—had to take a later flight than he'd planned."

She took out her phone and took notes as I spoke. "So, he was here when the accelerator exploded?"

"Yes."

"And what did you do with his body? Did you bury him?"

"No." I grasped my pendant again; the metal was warm beneath my palm. "I had him cremated. It was what he wanted."

Her head shot up as I said this and she looked so disconsolate I almost wanted to hug her. "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that. I was hoping we could get a sample for DNA testing."

"DNA? What does that have to do with anything?"

I must have spoken sharper than I realized because she went from sad to closed off in a split second. "Well, you see, metahumans share a particular DNA sequence which was activated by the particle accelerator. If I could have tested your husband's remains and he had that sequence, then we would know if he was a metahuman."

Glancing down, I let go of my pendant, unfastening the clasp. "Here. I have some of his ashes in this."

Interested, she held out her hand and examined the heavy gold heart. "Funerary urn jewelry. I've heard of it but have never seen one. This is particularly pretty." She reached out to hand it back. "Unfortunately, I can't pull DNA from ashes, not even with the most cutting-edge equipment."

"There's a tooth…"

She withdrew her hand. "A tooth? Inside here?"

I nodded. "Ralph lost it a few years ago. It has a gold filling so he didn't want to just throw it out. I thought it fitting to tuck it inside."

"I see. I might be able to work with a tooth." She smiled, looking bright and hopeful. "Mrs. Dibny, how long will you be in town?"

Her question surprised me but I answered all the same. "Uh … I planned on leaving early the day after tomorrow. My business should be completed by then."

"Perfect!" Now she sounded enthused. "May I ask a colleague to help me? Could I show them the videos? I promise we won't intrude on your privacy any more than we need to. Also, do you have a photo of your husband?"

I was already digging in my purse for one even as I said, "Uh, yes, of course, you can consult but why do you need a photo? Didn't the Central City papers—?"

"Oh, of course! You likely provided them with one; I can ask my friend for it." She slid my tablet closer to her and piled my pendant on top. "I will get to work on this right away and we can discuss the results tomorrow. I'll return your things then."

Suddenly, I stopped and asked myself why I was trusting this woman. I must have frowned or scowled because she asked, "Is there something wrong, Mrs. Dibny?"

I opened my mouth to say what was on the tip of my tongue … and the next thing I knew, I found myself seated inside a small infirmary!


	2. Ectoplasm

"Oh ho, there she is!"

I opened my eyes to find the grinning face of a young man gazing back at me from behind a back-lighted visor of some sort. I shook my head; my thinking was still very foggy and I couldn't fathom why.

"Wha-What happened? Where am I? Who are you?" My throat felt dry; my voice was raspy.

"Well, to answer your questions in reverse order, I am Cisco Ramon, technical wizard and sometime metahuman. You are in my inner sanctum-"

He was interrupted by Dr. Snow, who hurried over to take some sensor leads off my arms. "Cisco! Let her breathe!" She smiled down at me. "You're in the labs here, not far from where we last spoke. As far as what happened," her smile grew wider, "it seems you were right on all counts, Mrs. Dibny. Your husband is a metahuman; he's not entirely dead and he's been talking to us for the past twenty minutes." She patted my shoulder. "He was a bit impatient—he didn't want to wait until tomorrow for the test results."

"So, he's 'only mostly dead'," I muttered, trying to rise from the hospital-style bed. Dr. Snow offered a hand, while behind her, Cisco Ramon smacked his hands together.

"Bam! I told you he was a movie lover!" He pointed at a tall, wiry guy standing behind a bank of computer screens. "Didn't I say it?" He turned back to me. "I'm right, aren't I?"

"Yes." My head hurt. I rubbed it. "He made me see that stupid film more than once. I guess it grew on me."

"Is he still in the room, Cisco?" the wiry guy asked.

"Yeah. Still here. Standing directly behind the missus, trying to put his hands on her shoulders."

The implications of Ramon's assertion made me blink. "You-you can see him?" A fresh wave of pain, accompanied by the roiling feeling of nausea made me moan. "Oh, my head—"

Dr. Snow frowned. "Hm. Maybe you'd be better off lying back down." As she eased me back onto the raised bed, she asked, "Mrs. Dibny, has this happened before? This headache? I mean, after Ralph has—for lack of a better term—possessed you?"

"I don't know." My mind was a bit clearer now that I was reclining. "His visits were usually at night, after which I would sleep. Besides, none of his visits were for more than a few minutes. You said this was twenty?"

Barry made his way over, carrying a tablet. "Give or take. We recorded the whole session if you'd like to see it." He held out a hand. "I'm Barry Allen."

I shook his hand. "Sue Dibny." He presented the tablet to me but I waved it away. "Not right now, thank you."

He offered me a cup of water instead, settling down on a chair beside me while Dr. Snow took my vital signs the old fashioned way. So many questions flitted through my brain, I could hardly choose which one to ask first.

"You asked Cisco if he could see your husband." Barry's comment was quiet.

"Yes."

He nodded. "From what he told us, it was like looking at a semi-transparent overlay while he was 'possessing' you. Cisco could see you, but you were surrounded by your husband's ghost, form—whatever he is in this state."

"Ectoplasm sounds good," Cisco offered.

Barry grinned. "As a name or a state?"

Cisco shook a finger at him. "Nononono. Not a cool name. Not worthy of springing from the mind of Ramon. I'll come up with something really cool, promise."

"So, state of being, then."

"Yeah."

I got the impression these three worked together on a regular basis and even Dr. Snow had a role to play in their banter. "How can you see him?"

Cisco took off his fancy visor. His eyes were brown; I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't something so mundane. He squinted and blinked, rubbing the corners of his eyes just above his nose. "I did mention I was a metahuman, right? Well, I can see the vibrations between universes, and for some odd reason, your husband."

"He goes by the code name 'Vibe'," Dr. Snow said. "The visor—"

"My own design," he said with more than a hint of pride.

"Enables him to focus his powers," she finished.

"But it was your little vial of his ashes that enabled me to see him in the first place." He held out my pendant, dropping it gently into my outstretched palm. "I've overdone things today; getting a headache of my own now. But seeing your husband brings up some very interesting questions about what exactly happened to him."

Dr. Snow checked my pulse again. "How are you feeling now?"

"Better, I guess." The bed was rather uncomfortable; my slacks were bunched up behind my knees. Still, I didn't want to get up. It felt nice to just rest, knowing I wasn't going crazy.

Barry took a deep breath and let it out through his nose. "Hey, Mrs. Dibny?"

"Yes?"

"Well, uh, when Ralph was possessing you, he asked if he could do the same to one of us so he could actually, y'know, talk to you." He gave me a rather lopsided, charming smile. "I kinda volunteered."

My face must have shown my shock because Barry shook his head. "It's okay. It really is. He's not going to stay long. Just wanted to tell you some things. I'm okay with it if you are."

"I—This is incredibly generous of you but it's not really necessary." I tried to sit up, tried to swing my legs around. "I should really be going—"

Barry caught my hand in both of his. "Honey," he said, in a tone I knew too well. "I kinda think you need it."

I sighed, feeling the tears already pooling on my lashes.

"You've been through hell and back, Susie-Q, and some of that is my fault, so just you settle down and listen. Okay?"

I nodded, sniffing. Lying back against the bed, I kept my eyes focused on Barry's eyes. It was far too easy to just close mine and pretend the warm hands holding my own belonged to my husband, even if the voice was wrong. I didn't even see Dr. Snow and Cisco leave the room.

"First of all, sweetheart, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was running so late. If I'da taken that earlier flight like I said I would, we wouldn't be here, would we?"

"No." I sniffed some more. He ran his thumb over the back of my hand, just like he used to. "I forgave you that, you know."

"Yeah, I know." A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. It wasn't Barry's smile at all. "It was kinda hard at first, being a spirit or whatever that Cisco guy is gonna call me. Didn't know what was happening to me. But once I figured out how to get somewhere, I went home and found you."

"I'm sorry." I started sobbing now, realizing what I had done with my husband's body would keep him from ever coming back to me in reality. "I'm so sorry, Ralph!"

"For what?" He reached out and ran a thumb over my cheek, blurring my tears across.

"For cremating you!" I shook his hand off. "You'll never get back to your body now!"

He put his hand back on my cheek. It wasn't the same; Barry's fingers were longer and his palm calloused in different spots. "Nah, it wouldn'ta mattered. I tried it, y'know, soon as it happened, I tried to get back in my body. Just couldn't get it to move. It was a dead body, a lump of flesh. It was when I went for help, not knowing nobody could see me, that I found out I could possess people. Brought a police officer to my body; he called it in."

"That's how I found out so soon." I put my hand on Barry's. It might not have been Ralph's hand, but it was still comforting.

"Yeah. I didn't want you to go around not knowing. But it was still a shock and took some time to figure everything out." He used his free hand to gesture to the laboratory. "Now these fine folks have seen me and maybe we can come up with something." He smiled again. "Just knowing that you're gonna be okay is good enough for me."

"But what do we do now?" If I sounded plaintive, it was because I didn't want this to end-even though I knew it wasn't fair to Barry.

"Well, you've got your life to live, hon." His smile was wistful. "I may not be all dead, but I'm not gonna be much of a husband to you. I'll keep an eye on you, yeah, but—well, you gotta live."

It was like a stab to the heart. I knew I couldn't live the way that he wanted me to. Not when I knew he was still partly alive. He said he'd keep an eye on me. Did that mean he'd be watching me find love again? Could I break his heart that way? Could I drive him away and not even know it?

"Ralph, I—"

He put up a finger. "Hold that thought, hon, until next time. Barry's about to kick me out and I want to make sure I do this—" Barry leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. His lips weren't Ralph's; they were too warm and not full enough. But it still felt like a benediction. "See you around, hon."

He sat down abruptly, shaking his head in short little bursts and blinking furiously.

"Barry?" I asked, hesitant.

"Yeah. It's me." Barry let out a breath with a whoosh. "Whoa. That was weird." He smiled, that lopsided grin he'd given me before. "Did he say anything interesting?"

I was torn between telling him, "Yes, everything," and "No, nothing at all," because every word interested me and none of it would interest Barry. I settled for, "He told me he couldn't get back into his body after he … died."

Barry nodded. "Yeah, he told us that, too."

Leaning back against the bed, I tried hard not to let the tears flow, but a sob escaped and that's all it took. My tightly wound core of anger and frustration and downright fear was unraveling.

Barry sounded flustered; he jumped up and hunted around for a box of tissues. "Hey, hey, it's okay. It's all good, Mrs. Dibny. I'm fine. You're fine." He found a box, deposited it on my lap, then stepped toward the infirmary's opening. "Cait?"

Dr. Snow hurried over. They exchanged a couple of quiet words I couldn't hear before exchanging places. She settled down into the seat Barry had just vacated. "So, I take it things didn't go so well."

"No, no, it went fine. More than fine." I took a tissue and wiped my eyes, trying to get control over my emotions. "Barry. I have to thank him. It was definitely Ralph. He was channeling Ralph. I understand so much now." My words kept tumbling out; I couldn't stop them any more than I could stop my tears. "He told me what happened. He forgave me for cremating him. He-He's going to watch over me but—" I blew my nose. "He wants me to go on with my life. My life with him yet without him." Dr. Snow's face blurred through my tears. "I don't know that I can."

If she was put off by this strange woman blubbering all over her lab, she certainly didn't show it. "I think you can, Mrs. Dibny. You've been through a lot, thinking you were going crazy and everything else. Yet here you are, knowing you are perfectly sane and everything you've gone through has an explanation." She paused, handing me another tissue. She seemed to look off into the distance. "You know, when the particle accelerator exploded, my fiancé, Ronnie, was inside. I thought he was dead."

She had my attention. I wiped my eyes again, taking a deep breath to calm myself. "So, this happened to him, too?"

She gave a sort of half head shake and half shrug. "Not exactly. He became merged with a professor visiting the labs that day. Together, they became a metahuman Cisco christened Firestorm." She smiled but her eyes looked sad. "It took us a while to find him and come up with a way to control his powers." Turning her attention back to me, she asked, "Did you hear about the breach over Central City a few months ago?"

"Yes, I did." It was quite the Internet sensation at the time. Hundreds of videos went viral and quite a few conspiracy theorists declared it a Hollywood special effect. It didn't matter to me which it was; I had my own troubles.

"Well, Firestorm went up and closed the breach. The professor lived. Ronnie didn't—he didn't survive." Her sigh was soft and melancholy. "We'd been married less than an hour."

I echoed her sigh. "I am so sorry."

"Thank you." She assayed a small smile. "It was hard at first. I worked at Mercury Labs for a while, hoping to put some space between myself and the memories. It worked for a bit. In the end, though, I came back here. The particle accelerator may never function again, but we still don't understand how it created the metahumans. Besides," she made a gesture encompassing the labs, "it's home."

She patted my shoulder. "Just rest here for as long as you like. When you're ready, I'll walk you out."

I nodded. "Thank you."

Dr. Snow smiled again, brighter this time, and left me to my thoughts.

I grabbed my purse from the table beside me and brought out my phone to check the time. As I suspected, I'd missed the appointment with the real estate agent. Ralph and I had planned to move to Central City; he'd set up his private investigator's office here already. We'd even bought a house in a quiet, older neighborhood. Part of my business today was to put that house back on the market and shutter the office space he'd leased. The cases, as few of them as he'd had, would have to be closed, monies refunded and any evidence turned over to the police. There was so much to do and I had only allotted two days for all of it.

My world had tilted, that was for sure. I knew now why I'd been in such a state. Maybe now I could go back to the psychiatrist and—what? Tell him the truth? He'd never believe it. I made a mental note to call my own physician and ask how to wean myself from the anti-depressant. Or I could ask my friend, Jean. She was a nurse; she'd know what to do.

I glanced into the laboratory area. Cisco Ramon, sans visor, was on his feet, moving from screen to screen, a serious expression on his face. Dr. Snow watched another monitor intently, speaking into a microphone at intervals. Barry was missing; at least, I couldn't see him from where I sat. I wanted to thank him for opening himself up to Ralph like that, preferably before I left. Still, if he wasn't available, I could do something before I went home. A thank you note at the very least. Perhaps a fruit basket? I huffed a chuckle, shaking my head. How does one thank someone who did something so amazing and selfless? None of the etiquette rules Mother and Grandmother pounded into me seemed to fit.

Sighing, I reached for my shoes. "Well, Ralph," I muttered. "It's high time I got out of these people's lives and got back to living my own, right?"

As I gathered my things, Dr. Snow noticed me. She smiled and came around from behind the desk.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Physically, yes. Emotionally? I don't know yet. It's all so new." I found my coat "Is Barry available? I want to thank him especially."

She shook her head. "No, I'm afraid not. He had an errand to run."

"Oh." I gestured to the desk. "I probably should get out of your hair."

She frowned slightly and exchanged glances with Ramon. "If you're up to it-"

"Yes." I nodded, sliding my arms into my coat. "I think I am. I still have some business to conduct and an appointment to reschedule."

"All right then. I'll walk you out."

I paused slightly I passed Cisco, offering my hand. "Thank you so much for your help, Mr. Ramon."

He grinned at me and took it. "De nada." As I walked out, he called, "Hey, I'll let you know if I come up with a cool name for Ralph."

I wasn't sure why this was so important, but I nodded, a slight smile on my lips. "I look forward to it."

We took the elevator down to the first floor. The corridors felt like a maze; their walls were unfinished concrete at first but segued into finished and painted drywall. Dr. Snow guided me easily and before I knew it, I was back at the little receptionist area.

She offered her hand. "I'm glad we could help you today, Mrs. Dibny."

I shook her hand, truly smiling for the first time since I entered the place. "So am I. Thank you so much." I glanced back along the corridor, already making mental plans to send along something to more properly express my gratitude. "Please pass my thanks along to Barry."

"I will." She opened the door for me. "Good luck with your business, Mrs. Dibny, and enjoy the rest of your stay in Central City."

"Thanks again."

As I stepped out into the frigid, dying afternoon, a young man approached the door. Well-built, blond, and handsome, he flashed a high-wattage smile at me.

"Ma'am," he said as he ducked his head in greeting.

I put up a hand, but he was already jogging toward the doors. My nose twitched as he passed.

"Oh, no, Ralph," I muttered as I turned back towards the car. "You are not passing that little tic onto me!"

As I reached my rental, I stopped and turned, gazing just beyond the accelerator building. The sun, nearly set, turned the cirrus clouds to shades of peach and lavender. Central City's lights glittered on the river; the white and red of bridge traffic reflected in the light coating of river ice. I took in a deep breath of wintry air. There was snow forecast for the next few days but Opal City already had two feet with more on the way. Dr. Snow had spoken of putting space between herself and the memories. Might I do the same? Ralph said he was drawn back here more than once. I already had somewhere to live. Why not move and begin anew?

I climbed into the car, turning my attention to my appointment with the office building manager—and rescheduling my appointment with the real estate agent.

* * *

 **Author's note:** Ralph Dibny is well-known as the stretchy superhero known as the Elongated Man. However, relatively recent DC Comics continuity had both Ralph and Sue in a state much like that of DC's Deadman character, invisible to the others in the story (but not to the reader) and able to interact with other characters only by possessing them. I thought going this route would not only be more original but would also explain Ralph's absence in the show's continuity. After all, his was one of the names Harrison Wells recited in 1x7 ("Power Outage").


	3. Coffee Break

Spring was lovely in Central City, I decided. The day was sunny and warm enough to sit outside with just a light jacket; a good thing for me as they didn't allow dogs—other than service dogs—in CC Jitters. I sipped one of their signature "Flash" coffees while testing out their free wi-fi by scanning the website of a local charity on my tablet. The patio area was full of customers enjoying their beverages and the good weather, but no one bothered me, probably because of the small, scruffy dog laying at my feet.

He suddenly perked up, nose in the air, giving it a good solid sniff before letting out a sharp bark. I was just about to reprimand him when someone spoke.

"Mrs. Dibny?"

I whirled at the familiar voice. My eyes lit up with pleasure. "Dr. Snow! What a pleasant surprise!"

"Yes, this is a surprise!" She came around the table, arms outstretched. I rose, placing my tablet on the table before giving her a stout hug. "I thought you'd gone home to Opal City!"

"I did. Just long enough to sell my house, pack up, and move here." I settled back down in my chair and took a sip of coffee while Dr. Snow tugged her companion, the handsome young man I remembered in passing, forward.

"Mrs. Dibny, this is my friend, Jay Garrick. Jay, meet Sue Dibny. She came to us for help a couple of months ago."

"Oh, yes! I remember passing you in the parking lot." Jay held out his hand. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Dibny."

"Please, call me Sue, both of you." My dog stood, wagging his scruffy tail at Dr. Snow, who crouched down and offered her hand for a sniff.

"What an adorable dog!"

"His name is Ralphie. He's a terrier mix."

"In other words, a mutt." Ralphie's tail wagged a mile a minute, sometimes in circles as she petted him. "Where did you get him?"

"The Central City animal shelter. He's a good companion and gives me a reason to get outside and walk." I smiled as she withdrew to give Jay an opportunity to make friends.

Ralphie's reaction to Jay Garrick was different; his hackles went up and he growled low in his throat. He began to bark, growling between spurts of warning yips. Startled, Garrick withdrew, stumbling backward before catching himself on another patio chair.

"Ralphie! Stop that! Come!" Frowning, I snapped my fingers. Seeing the threat retreating, he returned to his spot beneath my chair, eyes watching Garrick's every move. I turned my own attention to the perceived threat. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Garrick. He's usually very friendly."

"Don't worry about it, Mrs. Dibny. I've never had much luck with dogs. And, please, call me Jay." He turned to Dr. Snow. "Hey, Cait? Why don't I get the coffee and the two of you can chat while I wait in line? I'm sure you have some things to catch up on."

"That sounds wonderful," Dr. Snow said. She settled into the chair beside me as he pulled it out for her. "Thank you, Jay."

"Do you need a refill, Sue?" When I shook my head, he nodded. "Okay, then. Be back soon," he said, striding off to the coffee shop's doors. Dr. Snow's eyes followed him until he disappeared inside.

"He's such a nice guy." Her dreamy utterance abruptly ended as she turned to me, leaning in to ask, "So, you moved here? When did this happen?"

"Not long after we spoke last." I put the tablet back into my bag and took another sip of my coffee. "Something you said about giving yourself space really resonated with me. Ralph and I bought a house here, with the intention of moving and relocating his private detective business. I figured, I already have a house here, why not go through with the plan? So, here I am."

"Amazing!" She smiled at me, a twinkle in her eye. "You look so much better than you did when I saw you last. More relaxed and rested."

"That's because I am both. Coming to Central City has done me a world of good." I paused. "How are Cisco? And Barry? Still working hard?"

"Yes, they're both very busy. Oh, thank you for those chocolates and the edible arrangements. You didn't have to go through all that trouble."

"Of course I did! You deserved more thanks than I could muster up at the time. Did you get the check?"

Ralphie wiggled his way under the table to lie down at Dr. Snow's feet. She glanced at him but did nothing more. "Yes, we did but Barry was puzzled. He couldn't figure out what to do with it."

"Ah, so Barry owns S.T.A.R. labs?" I hadn't found any new information on the owner; the name of Harrison Wells was still attached to any financial records.

"Yes, he is. Or he will be once Dr. Wells's will clears Probate." She shook her head. "Until then, there are no funds to repair the building and the city might object to any remodeling which makes it look as if the accelerator is coming back online." Leaning forward again, she clasped her hands together. "It was a generous gesture, though."

"I should probably speak with Barry, then, and tell him to use the money in whatever way he sees fit. I just thought it was a shame for the place to look so damaged."

Our conversation lagged a little. Ralphie's whine brought her attention back to him. "So, Ralphie," she said, wiggling her fingers so he would come closer. "Does Ralph, uh, inhabit—?"

I shook my head. "No, he doesn't. He's tried, but says the dog's senses are too limiting." I grinned. "Besides, when he does, he wants to talk and that means Ralphie barks incessantly. He's not as bad as just a dog and fewer people give me funny looks when I'm talking to Ralph because they think I'm talking to the dog." It was my turn to move forward, as if imparting a secret. "I have noticed, however, that Ralphie is a very good judge of character. You should keep an eye on your friend there." I wanted to tell her about the would-be thief who slid up beside my car as I stepped out to fill my gas tank—I locked my car doors at his angry bark—or the belligerent woman who mistook me for a feuding neighbor. I didn't have time because Jay, hands full, was headed our way.

I leaned in, my voice soft ask I asked, "Please, Dr. Snow, if you haven't already mentioned Ralph's condition to him, don't. I just—I'd like to keep that quiet."

Dr. Snow frowned, puzzled. "I—sure, okay. I can do that."

"Thank you." I sighed, relieved.

Her frown cleared. One side of her mouth quirked up in a smile. "Dr. Snow—that sounds so formal. Call me Caitlin, please."

"All right; Caitlin it is." At a snap of my fingers, Ralphie abandoned her and settled by my side again. He didn't lie down but stayed alert, his eyes focused on Garrick as the man took the seat opposite me at the round table. I could hear the low growl in his throat.

"So, I hope you ladies had a good talk while I waited in that line." Garrick shook his head. "There's a trainee behind the counter today; he took forever!"

"Their best barista, Kendra, quit a few weeks ago." I pulled my tablet from my purse again. "Looks like they've had a hard time replacing her."

Caitlin murmured her thanks to Jay as he handed her a cup. "That's right! Kendra. Cisco dated her for a little while; he told me all about it. I'm not surprised they're having difficulty finding someone as good as she was."

"Really? What a coincidence!"

The conversation lagged a little again. Ralphie's reaction to Garrick soured me on learning anything about him, but it wouldn't hurt to ask some questions. After all, my nose was beginning to twitch. I put on my best hostess smile.

"So, Jay, what do you do for a living?"

The question seemed to take him by surprise. "Well, right now I'm helping Caitlin and Cisco at S.T.A.R. Labs deal with the recent influx of metahumans." He cleared his throat. "I've had some experience with them." Something in my face must have clued him in to how that sounded. "Heh. Uh, actually, I mean I've had experience with metahumans in general. Not these in particular."

"I see. So, you're a geneticist, too? Or a researcher?" I sipped my coffee, gazing at him from over the cup's rim.

"Uh, more of a behaviorist, I guess. I find I understand how they think, what moves they're likely to make." He shrugged, giving me another smile. Really, he had a vibrant one. "What about you?"

I flapped a hand, a self-deprecating gesture. "Oh, I'm what the old-timers would call a socialite. Inherited money, good works, supporting the arts, that sort of thing. My husband, Ralph, was a private investigator; we were moving to Central City from Opal City for his business." I sighed. "Then the particle accelerator exploded and I lost him."

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that!" He glanced over at his companion. "Is that how you know each other?"

"Yes." I nodded, wanting to give Caitlin some direction. "She helped me understand what happened to Ralph the day he died." I smiled at her, an honestly warm expression. "She gave me some closure; helped me accept his passing."

"I was glad to help."

I could have sworn Garrick's eyes narrowed as they flicked back and forth between us. "So, that's why you were at S.T.A.R. labs a few months ago."

My nose twitched again; by now, I was used to the little warning tic. "Yes. It took a while for me to connect his death with the explosion and, once I had I thought, surely the lab was closed. But Dr. Wells's confession caused quite a stir and I discovered it was open. So, I visited Caitlin when I came to Central City on business." I turned to her and reached out my hand. "You were such a help."

She grasped it and squeezed, shaking it gently. "As I said, I was happy to help."

A soft chime went off. Caitlin let go of my hand and consulted her phone. "Oh, break time's over. We need to get back to the lab." She began to gather her things as Garrick finished his coffee. "It was so good to see you again, Sue. I hope you enjoy your new life here."

"Yes, welcome to Central City," Garrick quipped as he took charge of the trash. He walked it to the nearest trash can. I scrambled in my handbag for a business card.

"Here, take this. My phone number's on it. Call me whenever you like and, please, remind Barry to get in touch about that check."

"I will." She took the card. I stood and we embraced.

"Remember what I said about your friend," I murmured. "Ralphie hasn't steered me wrong yet."

Caitlin's smile was terse; I could tell she didn't like what I had to say about her handsome young man. Garrick returned, gathered her up with a hand around her waist, and, giving me a brief wave, guided her away from the coffee shop.

I sat down as I watched them go, breathing a troubled sigh out my nose. My coffee was cold and I debated buying myself a refill. A spring breeze ruffled my jacket, raising goosebumps. Ralphie stood suddenly, stretching, his pink tongue curling up into a yawn. I took that as a sign.

"Well, Ralphie my boy, I think we'd better be on our way. I want to find out more about this Jay Garrick."

* * *

Author's Note: I'm taking some liberties with the layout of CC Jitters; photo stills don't exactly show an outdoor seating area, but there might be one tucked behind the building somewhere. (Just go with it, okay?)


	4. A close encounter

I was surprised to discover absolutely no listing of this particular Jay Garrick anywhere. Ralph taught me a few tricks of his trade during our marriage but not one of them turned up the man who Caitlin worked with. Mind you, I had little enough to go on—no age, birthdate, even height or weight-but someone who styled himself as a "metahuman behaviorist" would, by necessity, be a very large frog in a tiny puddle. Eventually, I realized how presumptuous I was in researching the beau of a woman I hardly knew and let it go.

I did, however, find out more about Barry Allen, police forensic scientist, and owner of S.T.A.R Labs. Seemed Harrison Wells's confession freed Barry's father, Henry, from prison.

True to her word, Caitlin passed my request on to Barry, who phoned me to discuss the check I'd sent.

"Mrs. Dibny—"

"Please, Barry, call me Sue." I was fairly sure what he was going to say just by the tone of his voice.

"I really can't take this money. It's too much."

Ha! I was right! I mentally patted myself on the back.

"You can and you will." Ralphie trotted over and rose up on his hind legs, resting his forepaws on my knee. I scratched him behind his ears before wandering over to the divan. Plunking myself onto its cushions, I tucked my legs up under me. Ralphie jumped up and settled his head on my bent knee. "It's not like I drained my savings or anything and what you did for me and Ralph; well, it was priceless."

The next thing I knew, Ralphie was licking my face and Barry was calling my name. "Sue? Are you all right?"

"Yes, Barry. I am." I sighed, stroking the dog to reassure him. "That was Ralph, wasn't it? What did he have to say?"

"Ah, yeah. That was Ralph." He paused, then sighed. "He suggested I put the money away until I could make repairs. And that you wanted to warn me about Jay? Jay Garrick?"

I blinked, startled. "Well, yes. It's nothing I have proof of, but he did raise Ralphie's hackles and Ralphie—that's my dog—is a good judge of character. Do you have any information on his background?" I cut myself off right there; no need for him to know I'd gone and searched the Internet for the man.

"Actually, I do. He comes highly recommended."

It was so tempting to ask just whose recommendation Barry had, but I bit my tongue. It really wasn't my place. "Good to know."

"About Ralph—" Barry cleared his throat. "He also asked me to tell you he loves you."

I smiled, chuckling a little. "Well, thank you for passing on the message. We both appreciate it."

"No problem. You take care now, okay?"

"You, too. Have a good day."

I disconnected the call and set the phone down. There was still something off about that Garrick; I wished I could put a finger on it. Scratching my dog behind the ears again, I asked the air, "Well? Do you have anything concrete I could show Barry and Caitlin?" A few moments passed; I remained seated—no change of position, no dog slobbering over my face. "I didn't think so, but … thanks for telling him. I love you, too."

Another thing I liked about Central City, I decided, was my neighborhood. Though it was older, it had long been a bastion of professionals: doctors, lawyers, university professors, etc. Many of the older houses were in the process of being renovated, which made taking Ralphie for a walk during the day like threading through an obstacle course. So, we preferred the evenings, even if they were chilly.

The city was under siege from Zoom, according to the news reports. Fortunately, the Flash managed to confine their skirmishes to the downtown or industrial areas. As a result, I felt perfectly safe walking at night. Not only did I have my fierce little hound sniffing every bush and tree for danger (and occasionally saluting them as we passed) but my unseen protector hovered nearby, listening as I chattered freely about my day. If anyone else was about, I'm sure they assumed I was talking to my dog. Mind you, I did take some precautions against more common criminals, mostly in the form of pepper spray and my cell phone. I'm not stupid.

On this particular evening, Ralphie and I were a block and a half from home when a blue bolt of energy, jagged and swift, shot past us, followed by red and yellow blur. The combined force of their wake spun me around. I fell, losing my grip on Ralphie's leash.

He took off like a shot, barking and growling as he dashed up the steps and through the open door of a nearby house.

"Ralphie! Come here!" I picked myself up, wincing as I dusted off my hands. My hip ached, one arm stung, and a knee of my leggings was ripped. With a groan, I hobbled up the flight of concrete steps as quickly as I could.

Beyond the half-open door, I heard Ralphie yipping and snarling. Two male voices pleaded with someone to stop whatever was going on. My nose twitched, hard. I pushed the door open further and limped inside.

An older man shot me a glance as I came into the living room. There, on the hardwood floor, lay Jay Garrick, and on top of him, pounding Jay's face with a flurry of blows too fast to be seen, knelt Barry Allen! Dressed in stark black, his face already purpling with bruises, Jay had his forearm up, trying to deflect the punches. He kept calling, "Barry! Stop it, would ya?"

The older gentleman had his arms full of squirming, yipping dog, but he still turned and tried to stop me from coming closer. "Ma'am, please stay here with me. It's dangerous." He hefted Ralphie. "I take it this is your dog?"

I nodded, opening my mouth to answer him when Jay looked right at me. He lisped between swollen lips, "Sue! Susie-Q! Tell the kid who I am!"

Before I could stop myself, I threw myself at Barry, shouting his name. His arms were moving too fast, so I grabbed the red hood attached to the suit he wore and tugged, hard. He paused his beat down long enough to turn my way, scowling. I could have sworn a bright yellow bolt of lightning arced across his narrowed eyes.

"Barry! That's Ralph!" I pointed at Jay/Ralph; Barry followed my finger. "It's Ralph, Barry! He's in control, but not for long!"

I didn't even see him get up. Just a bolt of scarlet and gold lightning arced by, this time heading out. They were both gone.

I rocked back on my heels, surprised to find myself almost panting. "Wow." Shaking my head, I gulped in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Wow," I repeated, louder this time. Ralphie, free from his captor's arms, trotted over. I laughed as he slobbered kisses all over my face.

"Ralphie, you rascal!" I scratched him behind the ears. "Who's a good boy? You are! Such a good boy!" Of course, I said all this in a baby-talk voice I swore I'd never use with him.

Finally, I rose to my feet, groaning. Ralphie was still on his leash; the older man who'd tried to stop me holding the handle. He looked familiar.

"Henry Allen, right? Barry's father?"

He started. "Uh, yes." A puzzled frown crossed his face as he looked at me. "Do I know you?"

"No. I'm Sue. Sue Dibny. I'm acquainted with your son. I saw your picture online." I held out a hand, then hissed at seeing the scrapes across my palm. "Uh, do you have a first aid kit? I was knocked over outside."

Henry shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't live here anymore. I did, once, a long time ago. But not now."

Warning bells went off in my head. "So," I drawled, "that means we're both—"

I said, "Trespassers" at the same moment Henry said, "Trespassing." He continued, "We should get out of here before the neighbors notice-"

"-And call the police." I took Ralphie's leash from him and hobbled to the door.

"Don't worry about that," he said, offering his arm. I took it; my injuries made the steep concrete stairs seem daunting. "I have a friend or two at CCPD. I can make a call and clear this up."

He paused; I looked up to see him grimace. "Hm. There's one snag: I don't have my phone with me."

"No problem. I—ow!—have mine. Just get me down to sidewalk level and you can borrow it."

By the time we reached the sidewalk, a few of the neighbors had already gathered. A couple of them recognized me—or, I should say, they recognized Ralphie. They moved in to pet him as Henry lowered me to one of the bottom steps. One, in particular, recognized his old neighbor.

"Henry Allen, as I live and breathe!" The portly gentleman who lived next door—Mr. Whitmire, I recalled-stepped forward, offering his hand. "It's been a long time!"

Henry turned and shook Whitmire's hand. "It has been at that, Phil!" He motioned toward me. "Have you met Sue Dibny?"

"Of course! Maureen and I see her and her dog pass by most every evening." Whitmire stepped closer. "Are you all right? Mo saw you fall; she sent me out to help. By the time I got out here, the two of you were coming down the stairs."

"I heard shouting," said Dr. Akumi, the pediatric ophthalmologist who lived on the other side. "Terese is out of town so I was about to call the police—" She held out her cell phone and shrugged.

"Did I see the Flash come out of there?"

Everyone turned to Xavion Lewis, center for the Central City Stingers, our soccer team. He gave Ralphie a last scratch before standing and crossing his arms over his chest. "I've seen him before. I know what he looks like in motion."

That's the pieces all came together. Barry—red hood (mask, cowl, what was it?)—superspeed and lightning across his eyes—

 _Barry Allen was the Flash!_

The idea hit me like a hammer. I would have fallen over if I wasn't already sitting. It made so much sense. Henry must have seen me make the connection just from my expression; he shot me pleading glance. He knew, too! Of course, he did! Barry was his son!

I breathed in to steady myself then huffed it out, nodding slowly as I turned my attention to Xavion. "Yes, it was the Flash. I saw him run in; the wind in his wake knocked me down and I dropped Ralphie's leash." I snapped my fingers; Ralphie bounded up to sit beside me. "This mutt here went tearing off after him, barking and growling." I shrugged. "Once I got up, I had to follow."

"Of course you did. What happened next?" Maureen Whitmire joined the party. She settled down on the step, too, offering me an ice pack for my knee. I noticed Henry asking Dr. Akumi for the use of her phone. I pulled mine from my bag and held it out. Xavion tugged on Henry's arm, pointed to my phone, and passed it over at Henry's nod. I wished I could hear just who he was calling at the CCPD. I figured it probably wouldn't be Barry, not this time. After all, he was busy.

"Well, when I got up there, Henry was already inside. He had hold of Ralphie. The Flash had someone on the floor and was really waling on him! He sure seemed angry!" That was the truth; so far, so good.

"Why? Who was it?" Dr. Akumi turned toward me as Henry stepped off the curb to make his call.

"And why here of all places?" Whitmire asked, gazing at the house with a speculative look.

I shrugged. "No idea. Just that he was male and the Flash was pummeling him." Half-truth there; I knew who was being pummeled but why? I think Henry would have to tell me. I rubbed my chin. "I must have yelled something because the Flash glanced up, realized he had an audience, and took off with whoever it was." Maybe a three-quarter truth this time.

"I'm sure the Flash had a good reason for what he did and we'll hear on the news tonight he's caught and jailed some dangerous metahuman," Maureen opined. "Maybe even this Zoom character himself! Wouldn't that be a relief!"

Henry interrupted, holding one hand over my phone's mic. "Mrs. Dibny? Do you need an ambulance?"

"Hell, no!" I snorted, shaking my head emphatically. "I'm not spending half the night in the E.R. for a scraped elbow and a banged-up knee! Not when I have a perfectly serviceable first aid kit at home." Whitmire and Lewis chuckled. Maureen gave me an affronted side-eye and Dr. Akumi pretended she didn't hear me.

Henry grinned. "Good choice. What number is your house?"

"I'm at 574."

"Thanks." He turned back to his phone conversation.

"Are you sure you don't need any medical attention?" Dr. Akumi asked. "I may be an ophthalmologist but I can triage and bandage."

"No need." Henry returned my phone to me. "I can do it. The CCPD is sending a squad car here and a detective will meet Mrs. Dibny and me at her place." He offered me a hand up.

"Could you use a lift?" Xavion asked. "I haven't parked my car yet."

Henry and I exchanged glances. "That's a good idea," he said. "Don't need to damage yourself any further. I can take Ralphie—if he'll let me—and walk him down. It's not far."

I nodded. "That sounds good. Let's do it."

We managed to get down the street and into my house before the squad car arrived to interview the neighbors. Xavion went on and on about how awesome the Flash was as he drove. I was glad; it kept him from asking awkward questions.

By the time Henry's CCPD contact showed up, we two were in my kitchen, waiting for coffee to brew as Henry treated my more visible injuries. While he worked, I explained about Ralph and how I first met Barry. He, in turn, told me who Jay Garrick really was and what Garrick was doing before Ralph possessed him.

"So. Your son is the Flash." I shook my head, huffing out a self-deprecating laugh. "I was so stupid to not make the connection as soon as I saw him beating on Garrick." Henry glanced up at me but before he could say anything, I smiled. "You must be very proud of him."

He nodded. "I am. But I was proud of him long before he became the Flash."

"I just hope he was able to keep hold of Zoom until Barry could put him behind bars." I hissed as he finished bandaging my knee.

"You and me both." He handed me an ice pack. "Don't worry about keeping our stories straight. My contact will help us out." The doorbell rang. Ralphie galloped toward the front hall, barking his head off. "I'll get it."

I nodded, propping my leg up on a kitchen chair and settling the pack on top of the bandages. Henry returned with a familiar figure.

"Detective West!" I waved, smiling. "So good to see you again! "

Detective West regarded me for a long minute, studying my face. "I think I remember you. That body by the jetport, after the particle accelerator. You're the wife, right?" He muttered under his breath. "Disn—no, Dib—" He snapped his fingers. "Dibny. Mrs. Dibny! Nice to meet you again."

"Please, call me Sue." I held out my hand. He took it. We shook firmly and I gestured to a seat.

He glanced around my kitchen before sitting down; Henry was poking through the cabinets, looking for coffee cups. "I thought you lived in Opal City?"

"Henry, try the cabinet to your right." I turned my attention back to the detective. "Yes, I lived there. I moved here a few months ago. Ralph and I bought this house before he died. Thought I might as well take possession." I glanced from one man to the other. "I'm told you know Barry Allen?"

"Yeah, I know Barry pretty well."

Henry spoke over one shoulder. "He's a good friend. He raised Barry while I was in prison." He took down four mugs and set them on the table. "He also knows about Barry's little secret. Uh, where's the sugar?"

"Right here." I indicated the container of sugar packets. "The milk's in the fridge. Spoons are in the top drawer next to the sink."

As he finished up by bringing the fresh coffee to the table, the doorbell rang again. Ralphie hared off to the front door; I sighed in exasperation. "Could you get it?" I asked the detective.

"Yeah, sure." Detective West got up. "It's probably Barry. I gave him your address."

Indeed it was. Barry made a beeline for Henry. "Dad!" They hugged, a warm, lingering embrace. Ralphie barked, bouncing around their feet.

I snapped my fingers. "Ralphie! Here!" He trotted over to me, sitting by my side, panting.

Father and son broke their embrace. Henry asked, "Did you get him?"

Barry's grin grew wide as he crossed to join us. "We got him!"

There was a small eruption of jubilation. Father and son embraced again. Detective West joined in the hug, pounding Barry on the back. Henry offered me a high-five, which I returned with a heartfelt, "Yes!"

Barry motioned toward me. "Couldn't have done it without Ralph—or you, Mrs. Dibny. I didn't know Ralph had possessed Jay until you grabbed me."

The three men joined me at the table. "So Ralph was able to hold on?" I asked.

Barry nodded, murmuring thanks as his father handed him a cup of coffee. "All the way to the Pipeline." At my blank look, he explained, "The Pipeline is where we keep the metahumans we capture. It's at S.T.A.R. Labs."

"I hear there's talk of building a metahuman wing at Iron Heights," Henry said. He sipped his coffee. "Still, if it's all the same to you, Barry, I think I'm going to leave town for a while—just in case. Don't want either of us going through that again."

"Dad, Zoom's not going to get out. Thawne couldn't. Last I saw, Jay was unconscious. Even with his enhanced healing ability, he won't be in any shape to hurt anyone for a while."

"Waitwaitwaitwait." I held out my hands, confused and concerned. "These cells—they hold metahumans, right?"

"Yeah," Barry drawled, a puzzled frown on his face.

"Then Ralph might be stuck in there with him? With Zoom?" My level of concern was rising fast.

"Who's Ralph?" Detective West asked, looking as confused as I felt. He thought for a moment and his eyes widened. "You mean, your Ralph? Your dead husband?"

"My not-all-dead metahuman of a husband, Detective. He can possess people." I turned back to Barry as the detective muttered, "Day-am," under his breath. "Well? I know you can't really know if he's trapped, but could he be?"

Barry opened his mouth to speak, but Henry beat him to the punch. "Susie-Q," he said, catching my attention. "No need to worry? I'm just fine."

"Ralph?"

Henry took my hand and kissed it; a light flush crept up my cheeks. "I like this guy," he said, cupping my face with the other hand. "He looked out for you back there. And he's a doctor! What more could you want?"

"Ralph, you sound like my mother."

He laughed, pulling his hand away from my face. "Oh, no. Not that! Anything but that!" His expression was sheepish as he scratched the back of his neck. "I'll try not to be so pushy."

I put a hand over Henry's, squeezing it gently. "I think you'd better let Henry here go. You're weirding out the good detective."

"Ah, yeah. Just one more thing." Turning his attention to Detective West, he said, "Thanks for helping Sue here out when she wanted answers about my, uh, my bodily death. I appreciate it."

West looked startled. "Uh, yeah. Sure. Glad to help."

He addressed Barry, "Anytime you need my help, Flash, just tell Sue. I'll be hanging around."

Barry gave him a thumbs up. "I will, Ralph. Now, can I have my Dad back, please?"

"Sure." Henry kissed my hand once more. "See you around, honey." He winked at me, then Henry reached out to sip his coffee. "Huh. This was hot just a minute ago."

West was staring at him, shaking his head, while Barry and I shared a knowing smile.

Henry's brow furrowed as his eyes darted from me to Barry to the detective. "What?"

"That was, uh—" West blew out a, "Whoo!" He gestured to Henry. "That was weird. I've seen a lot of metahumans but nothing like that before."

Before Henry could ask again, I explained. "Ralph just let us know he's okay."

I'll say one thing for Henry, he's quick on the uptake. "He used me?"

"Yeah."

It was the detective's turn to frown. "Hold up a second. I get that Ralph knows about Barry, but Sue-?"

"She figured it out just tonight." West gave Henry the side-eye. Henry shrugged. "Ask Barry what happened and you'll see how. Right now, Sue and I have to get our stories straight and on the record—with your help."

Barry looked puzzled. "Why would you need to?"

"Believe it or not, son, you were seen." Henry freshened his coffee from the heated pot.

"And the neighbors heard yelling," I added. "They're a very nosy bunch. I gave them enough of a story to pacify them; it has the advantage of being mostly true. However, Henry needs a good reason for being there."

"Okay, then." Detective West pulled out a notebook. "Let me take your statements and we'll see what we can do."

A quiet house, a warm bath, and a couple of painkillers later, I lay curled up in bed with my tablet. Ralphie snored beside me, his hind legs jerking occasionally as he dreamed. As of yet, there was no mention of Zoom's capture, though a small story in Picture News brought up the Flash's takedown of some not-as-yet-identified metahuman. Dr. Akumi and Xavion Lewis were interviewed. The byline was Iris West; I vaguely wondered if she were related to the detective.

As I slid my tablet into the nightstand drawer, I picked up the picture sitting by my bedside. Ralph smiled out at me, dressed in a tuxedo, his cheek pressed to mine.

"Well, Ralph, you did good work today," I murmured. "I suppose we both did. I sure didn't see Barry as the Flash, but it makes a lot of sense." I sighed. "Living with and without you simultaneously will take some getting used to. In any case, I love you and I always will."

With that, I put the picture back on the nightstand and turned off the light.

* * *

As any fan of _The Flash_ knows, Ralph Dibny made his debut in the fourth season. Said debut jossed the hell out of my little fic but as it was a fix-it fic for Henry Allen, it's okay. I like seeing the heel-face-turn of the rascally Ralph, aka the Elongated Man, in the show so it's all good. Hope you enjoyed this little story. I'm sorry it took so long to finish.


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